When Sammy Met Santa
by callitintheair
Summary: Tragedy strikes the Winchester family during the holidays. Sick Sam.
1. Chapter 1

When Sammy Met Santa

Chapter 1

Summary: Tragedy strikes the Winchester family during the holidays. Will a little bit of faith, believing and Christmas spirit be enough to turn things around? Sick Sam.

Note: I got the Christmas spirit when I took my dog to get his picture taken with Santa. This story will be short, probably only two chapters. Dean is 9 and Sam is 5.

Reviews are welcome—really.

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything.

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* * *

"I'm gonna go grab us some food, okay Bud? Are you hungry?" John asked

"Hmm," Dean grunted in response, he wasn't really listening, but whenever he heard John's voice, he made some sort of noise.

"Okay," John said, "I'll be right back."

Dean was busy looking around the small hospital lobby, where many parents were sitting while their kids were in the little community playroom which connected on to the lobby. There were paintings of children and rainbows scattered across the walls, it was a pediatrics ward after all. There were Christmas decorations all around, in the corner there was even a tree covered in ornaments and there were presents underneath. In the small playroom was Santa Clause himself, he had come to visit all the sick little kids—like Sammy.

Sammy was not allowed to visit Santa though, the doctors had said that he was very susceptible to infections right now and he could not be around the other children. Even Dean had to wash his hands before he was allowed in Sam's room. He wished he could be with Sam now, but the doctors were doing tests, more tests. Sam had been a pincushion since he'd been brought in, his little arms were bruised from the endless blood work and IVs, it made Dean shutter just thinking about it. Sam was being so brave, he submitted to all the tests without complaint, although he continued to insist that he was fine.

Sam was not upset about not being allowed to see Santa; even at five, he knew that Santa was not real. He had never believed in Santa, John said that it was because he did not want to get Sam's hopes up about Christmas. Sam had never experienced a real Christmas, except from inside Mary's womb, as far as the Winchesters were concerned, December 25 was just another day.

Even so, it made Dean especially sad that Sam had gotten sick during the holidays. Dean could still remember the last Christmas that they had celebrated, he held the memory close to his heart, but he had never shared it with Sam, he didn't want to rub it in Sam's face, all the great things he had missed out on. Dean believed in Santa until he was nearly five and he knew the magic of waking up on Christmas morning to find what Santa had left him, he longed for it and he was sad that Sam would never have it.

Sam and Dean were taught, since Sam had learned to speak, to be great 'actors', when grown ups would ask them what they had asked Santa for, they would promptly name a toy. In fact, Dean had heard Sam do it earlier that day when a nervous med student had asked, "Have you told Santa what you want for Christmas yet?" As pale and weak as he was, Sam convincingly answered, "A fire truck with a real working hose and latter."

Dean was brought out of his thoughts when John gently shook his shoulder and held out a sandwich and a can of soda, "Here you go Dude." They ate in silence, anxiously waiting for Sam's Doctor, Dr. Martin, to come back out.

* * *

Although it seemed much longer to everyone involved, Sam had been in the hospital for a week, a long strenuous week. Five-year old Sam was in his kindergarten class, where everyone was busy writing their Christmas wish lists as a fun holiday activity, the kids were really into it, except for little Sam of course. He was racking his brain for more things to put on his meager list, all his classmates' lists seemed to be a mile long, and they were still writing furiously. He had the basics down on his list: A football, a baseball mitt, Thundercats action figure, GI Joe, a water gun... He looked over at the girl next to him, trying to get some more ideas, but she was not very helpful, apparently, she wanted every Barbie and Barbie accessory ever made.

Since he couldn't think of any more toys for his list, he decided that he might as well decorate it. He got up from his desk and went to the crafts bin on the other side of the room. On the way his breath hitched, he took a puff from his inhaler, which he carried in his pocket; he had childhood asthma, the doctors said that he would probably grow out of it. His asthma had been acting up a lot lately, but John thought that it was due to the cold winter weather.

After taking a hit from his inhaler, he continued towards the bin, then he felt a spark of pain in his chest, he ignored it and grabbed some markers and construction paper. As he went back to his table, the pain became sharper and more persistent then suddenly he couldn't breathe. He could hear himself wheezing as his knees buckled and he fall to the ground, he could vaguely hear his teacher frantically shouting his name, then every thing went black.

When he woke again, he was very confused—he was in full hospital attire, an oversized hospital gown with racecars on it, IVs in his arm, an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose, and he was hook up to more machines than he could count. His vision was blurry and distorted, no one had realized that he was awake, but he could feel someone's hand on his arm and he could hear his father speaking with someone.

"...had to shock him three times..." An unfamiliar voice announced, "...heart is failing...lungs are going with it..."

"But Why!?" Sam knew that voice, it was definitely his father. "Why is this happening?—He is only five!"

"We don't know, we're running tests and we are doing the best we can to come up with some answers, but right now—"

"Sammy?" A sleep-laced voice called from Sam's side, John hurried to the bed.

"D-dean?" Sam's voice was weak and muffled from the mask. "D-dad?"

"Hey Baby, how do you feel?" John asked, he stroked Sam's shaggy, sleep-tousled hair and Dean squeezed his tiny hand.

"Fine...What happened?"

"You fainted at school," Dean explained.

"You had to come to the hospital so the doctors could help you get better," John said.

"Kay," Sam mumbled drowsily.

It had been a waiting game ever since, the doctors still had no answers as to why a relatively healthy five year old was dying right before their eyes. Sam's health was deteriorating quickly, the already thin boy had lost considerable weight, looked tiny and fragile and he was so tired. The doctors said that if he did not start eating more they would have to put him on a feeding tube and if his breathing became any worse, they would have to put him on a ventilator.

* * *

When John and Dean saw Dr. Martin come into the lobby they both stood, "John, I think it would be best if we spoke privately."

"No Dad!" Dean cried.

"Wait here Dean," John ordered gently, "I promise I'll tell you when we're done." Dean did as he was told, but he did not look happy about it, the doctor led John out of the lobby. "What's wrong? How is he?"

"Not so good—John when we were getting the blood work Sam went into cardiac arrest, we had to shock him a few times, we are able to get him back..."

"But...?" John asked skeptically.

"But he wasn't breathing on his own, we had to put him on a ventilator and a feeding tube, his heart is weakening and we still don't know what's causing it."

"I-I-I don't understand, what are you doing for him?" John asked, he did not like the regretful, sympathetic look in the doctor's compassionate eyes. "Oh god...No!" John was barely containing his tears, he was desperately grasping at straws, "C-can't you put him on the list for a transplant or..." John's voice broke, "anything?"

The doctor shook his head sadly, "I'm sorry John. He'd never make the list; he's not even breathing on his own." The doctor watched the broken man make his way back to his oldest son, John said nothing, he just pulled the boy into a hug, and they clung to each other and sobbed. It was days like today that Dr. Martin wished he had chosen another profession.

* * *

Thanks for reading.


	2. Chapter 2

When Sammy Met Santa

Chapter 2

Summary: Tragedy strikes the Winchester family during the holidays. Will a little bit of faith, belief and Christmas spirit be enough to turn things around? Sick Sam.

Note: I'm really sorry I took so long to update, I had some major issues with this chapter—it was a female dog!! But I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

Dean sat at Sam's bedside, clutching his little hand, it was hard for Dean to see his usually inquisitive and vibrant little brother with a tube protruding from his mouth. The raise and fall of Sam's thin chest was comforting even if it was forced and unnatural, he had learned to tune out the soft 'whoosh' of the ventilator and the beeping that echoed thru the room. It still frightened him when Sam's breathing became irregular; it was as if he forgot to exhale for a second and the ventilator would beep loudly in protest; however, the nice young nurse had assured him that it was just Sam's way of coughing.

Dean looked down at his baby brother, Sam had lost weight that he couldn't afford to lose, his face very pale, the only real color was his black eyelashes against his cheeks and the dark smudges underneath his eyes. There was a feeding tube going into Sam's nose and his shaggy hair was tousle from sleep, Dean was grooming it with his free hand trying to get it back to the way Sam liked it.

Dean would give his right arm to see Sam open his eyes, "Sammy, please wake up...please?" He begged, taking Sam's hand in both of his, "I promise to read you as many books as you want, we can read the Hardy Boys all night if you'll just wake up. I didn't mean it when I said they were stupid—please Sammy?"

Dean paused for a second to think of more bribes that might rouse his brother. "And next time Caleb and I go fishing, I promise not to leave you with Pastor Jim. Dad should be back soon, he just went down stairs to meet Pastor Jim, he flew all the way here to see you and it's a real long way, it wouldn't be very polite if you didn't say 'hi' to him."

Dean didn't even look up when John and Pastor Jim walked into Sam's room, so he didn't see the surprise visitor, "Hey Boss." A familiar voice greeted.

Under normal circumstances, Dean would have been ecstatic to see the person behind this voice, but today he merely glanced up, "Hi Caleb." He muttered then turned his attention back to Sam and resumed his one-sided conversation.

When Caleb saw that he was making no headway with Dean he turned back to John and Jim who were standing in a comfortable silence, gazing at Sam. "He's so tiny." Dean heard Caleb whisper to himself, Dean's mind flashed back to last September.

* * *

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It had only been a few months ago, although it seemed like much longer, Sam had been healthy then and the Winchesters, along with Caleb, were staying with Pastor Jim while John was in between hunts. They had been staying there for so long that John had enrolled the boys in school there; Jim's house was pretty far away from everything so Jim had gone to pick the boys up while John did some research.

"Hey boys, how was your day?" Jim asked cheerfully as Sam and Dean got in the car, they both got into the back seat and Jim turned around so he could see them. Sam was swatting his brother's hands away as Dean tried to help him buckle himself into his car seat.

"I can do it myself!" Sam snapped, uncharacteristically.

"Fine." Dean said, holding his hands up in mock surrender, he and Jim shared a surprised look and an unsure shrug.

The boys seemed to have switched roles that day, usually Dean was complaining vociferously about school and Sam was talking excitedly about what he had done in class. Today, however Dean was telling Jim about P.E. and how he had done the most push-ups, pull-ups and sits-ups out of everyone for the fitness test and had won a fitness award and Sam was quietly looking out the window from his car seat.

Dean poked Sam's shoulder playfully. "Don't!" Sam growled.

Dean was shocked, Sam was a kind, sweet, and all around happy child and he could usually tolerate, and even enjoyed, teasing. "Are you okay Sammy?"

"I'm fine." Sam mumbled.

Jim was concerned now also, it wasn't like Sam to be moody after school, the kid loved school. "Do you feel alright kiddo?" Jim asked.

"Yes Sir," was the soft reply.

The tension in the car was palpable so Jim tried to break the ice. "What'd you do in class today Sammy?"

Sam's small body tensed and he remained silent for a while before whispering firmly, "Nothin'."

"Did something happen at school?" Jim asked school was obviously the root of the issue.

"No." Sam replied stubbornly, with that he didn't say another word for the remained of the drive, when they got to Jim's place, he quickly freed himself from his car seat, grabbed his things, and ran inside as fast as his little legs would carry him.

Sam didn't really know where he was going and he was running blindly due to the tears that were now running down his face, so he plowed right into Caleb's leg. Caleb was like a brick wall, he didn't even stumble when Sam slammed into him, but Sam flew the other way. Caleb knelt down beside Sam, who was sobbing uncontrollably, he though the Sam most be hurt, so he immediately started looking for any displacement in his arms and legs, because Sam wasn't one to cry over skinned knees or scraped elbows.

"Are you okay Sam? Tell me where you're hurt." Caleb asked, he was trying to hold the child still, because Sam was doing his best to squirm out of Caleb's gripe, when he finally did break free he scrambled to his feet only to be captured by Dean.

"Let me go! Let me go!" Sam cried pounding on Dean's chest with his tiny fists, but he soon had no more fight left in him and a sagged, defeated, in Dean's arms.

"What's wrong Sammy? What happened at school?" Dean asked.

"Nothin'." Sam said listlessly, he seemed to have taken great interest in the floor, where he, Dean, Caleb, and now Pastor Jim were all seated.

"Come on you can tell me."

Sam sniffles, "They were makin' fun of me."

"Who was makin' fun of you, Little Dude?" Caleb asked.

"Jus' some kids at school."

"I told you not to pay any attention to them. What'd they say to make you so upset?" Dean asked, anyone who made his baby brother cry would have hell to pay!

"It's stupid I don't wanna talk about it."

"It's not stupid if it hurt your feelings Sam." Jim said.

Sam hesitated before blurting out, "They were—they were makin' fun of me cuz I'm little!"

"Cuz you're...little?" Caleb asked, trying to conceal his amusement.

"Yeah," Sam replied between hiccups. "Cuz I'm smaller then everyone else, even the girls."

It was true, Sam was smaller then all the other kindergarteners. "So what, who cares if your small?" Dean asked.

"Your not small Dean, you're the biggest kid in your grade!"

"You know Sam, you'll only be small for a little while," Jim assured him. "I bet when you're full grown you'll be taller than Dean."

"Taller than Dean?" Sam asked, looking up at his brother, who towered over him, in wide-eyed disbelief. "No way."

Dean scoffed at the thought of his tiny brother being taller then him and crossed his arms over his chest. "You got that right."

* * *

Dean smiled at the memory, but was abruptly shaken from his daydream when Dr. Martin came into the room. "Could I please speak with you Mr. Winchester?"

John looked to Dean, "Why don't you go to the playroom for a little while, Dude." He said as if it were a suggestion; Dean however knew it was an order.

"I wanna stay with Sammy." Dean pleaded.

"Dean, I'll tell you everything when you go get back. Now please, go."

"Fine." Dean sighed dramatically, then he walked down the hall to the playroom, he was surprised to find it virtually deserted. It most be lunchtime because the only people left were Santa and his elves, so Dean sat down quietly, looking down at his feet.

"Dean, right?" A voice asked.

Dean's head shot up and he sniggered when he saw who it was, "Yup." He replied. "Santa, right?"

"That's right." The large jolly man in the red suit replied. "You haven't told me what you wanted for Christmas yet."

Dean scoffed. "If you were really real you'd know that my family doesn't do Christmas."

"That doesn't mean that you don't want anything..."

"What I _want_ is for you to go away, you big fat pedophile!"

Santa actually laughed a hardy, "Ho ho ho" causing Dean to roll his eyes in disgust. "Look, Dean I know there is something that you want, why don't you tell me what it is...please?"

"I already told you, you big—"

"Fat pedophile, so you said. You can call me all the names you want."

"Yeah, well, maybe you should lay off the milk and cookies, Big Guy." Dean muttered.

"I can't help you if you won't tell me what you want—"

"You can't help me anyway! All I want is for Sammy to get better and for you to go away!" Dean screamed, and then stormed off.

He went back to Sam's room and looked through the window on the door; what he saw made his heart drop, his father was beet red with fury and was speaking in a hushed, but no else angry voice to Sam's doctor and Jim and Caleb were keeping John and Dr. Martin at a safe distance apart.

This did not look good.

* * *

Thank you for hanging in there and thank you for your reviews I really appreciate them, they are great. If you want to review, I'm just saying, I'm not going to stop you, but if you angry at me for taking so long to update I understand. I'll do my best to update more quickly this time.


	3. Chapter 3

When Sammy Met Santa

Chapter 3

Summary: Tragedy strikes the Winchester family during the holidays. Will a little bit of faith, belief and Christmas spirit be enough to turn things around? Sick Sam. 

Note: Thank you to all readers and reviewers! I appreciate you.

Disclaimer: I apologize for any medical inaccuracies I did do my homework, but then again I'm not a doctor. Enjoy the chapter. And I still don't own any Winchesters, but thank you for rubbing it in.

* * *

Dean was doing his best to be inconspicuous as he pressed his ear against the door to Sam's room, in a vain attempt to eavesdrop. Finally, he got inpatient and frustrated, at being unable to hear and pushed the door open, just a tiny bit, thankfully everyone was too enthralled in the heated conversation to notice him.

"I just don't understand." John growled. "If you thought this might work, why didn't you try it sooner—you know, like before he was **dying**!"

"As I've been trying to explain to you Mr. Winchester, we still don't understand what is causing Sam's heart to fail, he has arrhythmia, which in Sam's case means his heartbeat is very erratic, his blood pressure is dangerously low and he's not breathing on his own. We didn't try this earlier because even though it's a minor operation, we didn't think that he could make it through the surgery."

"Well, earlier he was breathing on his own, why didn't you try it then?" John yelled.

"Please Mr. Winchester; I just told you, we weren't sure if he would make it through the surgery—"

"And now he almost definitely won't and if he doesn't have the surgery he'll die anyway—that's is what your trying to tell me...right?"

The doctor paused for a moment, and then sighed. "Yes."

Dean's curiosity got the best of him. "Dad? What kind of surgery does Sammy need?"

All the adults were shocked to see Dean standing in the doorway. "Dean...Why don't we go for a walk, Kiddo." John led Dean out the door and starting walking down the hall. "Son, your brother's heart isn't beating right, so the doctors want to put a thing in his heart that will monitor his heart and if it sees that his heart isn't beating right it'll fix it. It's called a Defibrillator."

"How will it fix it?" Dean asked.

"Well, if his heart starts beating too fast, it'll give it a little shock to help it get back to normal and if it's beating too slow, it'll help speed it up."

"Is he gonna have the surgery?"

"Yes."

"But, you said he'd die!"

John herded Dean to a chair and had him sit down then he knelt in front of him. "Dean, listen to me, Sammy is very sick and the doctors aren't sure what's causing it, they are hoping that this surgery will help him, but they don't know for sure. I'm sorry Dean, I'm sorry that I have to tell you this, but I think you deserve to know. I know this is hard for you to understand, but if your brother doesn't have this surgery he will die and even with the surgery, he might still die."

* * *

Sam was taken into surgery, the doctor had told them that it should only take a few hours, but John knew to expect longer. No matter how many people assured him that surgery was 'quite minor' he refused to let his guard down, he knew that in Sam's fragile state everything was a risk.

John had been staring at the same newspaper article for nearly two and a half hours now, Jim was at the chapel in prayer, Caleb had gone to the cafeteria to get everyone something to eat after many futile attempts to cheer Dean up, and Dean was walking up and down the long hall, counting the tiles on the floor.

Much to Dean's dismay, Santa started walking the length of the hall with him, he choose to ignore the man, until he got too irritated to stay quiet a moment longer. "What do you want?" Dean demanded.

"I just wanted to ask how Sammy was." Santa replied.

"Sammy's in surgery, they're putting a de...a de...de—something in Sam's heart to make it work right."

"Really?"

Dean nodded. "My Dad doesn't think it'll work, though." He sniffled. "He said that Sammy might die anyway."

"Sammy is your brother or sister?" Santa asked.

Dean looked appalled. "Sammy is a boy! He's my baby brother."

"Sorry." Santa said he was slightly amused. "Why don't you tell me about him?"

"I-I better go, the doctor might come out soon..." Dean said.

Thinking about Sam made Dean want to cry, so he raced down the hall towards the waiting area, ignoring the nurses who were yelling at him for running in the hall. However, he heard Santa call after him. "If you want to talk you know were I'll be."

Dean couldn't resist a sarcastic retort, even if it meant being captured by an angry nurse. "Yeah, the North Pole!" He yelled back then continued on to the waiting room.

* * *

A nurse had been by to tell John that the surgery was over and Sam was still alive, but she couldn't say much more except that the Dr. Martin would be out soon to speak with him. Of course, that was an hour ago, John was on the edge the edge of his seat, and Dean had been just as eager, until John finally forced him to go with Caleb to get some food.

John immediately recognized Sam's doctor when he stepped in to the waiting area; John tossed the newspaper aside and stood to meet him. He felt himself relax slightly, because as the doctor got closer John could make out smile and a look of hope shining in the man's eyes, he almost had an excited skip in his step.

"How'd it go?" John implored.

"The surgery went very well Mr. Winchester." Dr. Martin reassured him. "I'm sorry I wasn't out earlier we've been running tests just to make sure that everything is in the proper place—anyway I think we've found the problem...you know what's been making him so sick."

"W-what...what is it? What's wrong with my son?"

"Well, Mr. Winchester for the life of me I can't explain why we didn't discover the problem sooner or even why it wasn't discovered at birth. It's really a miracle that it took five years to catch up with him, to be quite frank. Your son has a hole in his heart, and looking back in his medical history it accounts for many things, it was recorded that between birth and six months of age he had poor weight gain, problems feeding, and low blood pressure. It explains why he's so small for his age, why his asthma has been acting up, and why he has been tiring so easily. I couldn't find any records past six months of age except for stitches in his head when he was 18 months and a broken wrist a few months ago, but I find it strange that it wasn't discovered much earlier, when is the last time he had a check up? Most heart defects can be diagnosed during a routine medical check up."

John blanched, he could clearly remember, both Sam and Dean's last check up, it had been when Mary as still alive. To be perfectly honest the thought of getting the boys check ups hadn't even crossed his mind since Mary died. "I...I'm not sure exactly, probably last year." John lied. The doctor nodded his acceptance. "Why do you suppose it wasn't found earlier?"

"I can't say for sure, most defects like Sam's are discovered at birth or shortly after; however, it might not have been detectable right away, but how it got past doctors for five years is a mystery to me."

John had to sit down, he was officially the worst father ever, and he couldn't believe that in the four and a half years since Mary's death it hadn't even occurred to him to get the boys a check up. Sam had been born prematurely and like the doctor said and he had some issues, but after Mary died, he just seemed to forget how important it was that Sam sees the doctor regularly. Just then, a terrifying thought came to him. "Is it hereditary?" John asked the doctor.

"Possibly, it's hard to say—" Dr. Martin said.

"I mean Dean—could Dean have something like this too?" John asked urgently.

"We can test him, just to make sure, but it's very unlikely that it would have gone this long without being diagnosed."

"I want him tested." John said. "What are you going to do for Sam?"

"He's going to need another surgery to repair the hole, I'm not sure how long it'll take, it could be up to twelve hours. There are some major risks for this surgery especially in Sam's condition, but this is the only chance he has to survive."

John nodded. "I understand."

"I have some papers for you to sign, and then I'll have a nurse take you to your son so you can see him before we take him back to surgery."

John sat down and read through all the papers he had been given, he didn't even see Dean and Caleb come back in. "Hey Dad." Dean said sitting in the chair next to John. "We brought you a sandwich."

"Thank you Son." John said.

"Any news?" Caleb asked.

John did his best to reiterate what the doctor had told him to Caleb and Dean. He quickly finished signing the papers and gave them to a nurse, who in exchange led them to Sam's room.

"The doctors will be in soon to take him, but you can stay with him until then." The nurse explained.

Sam looked the same save small bump under his hospital gown near his collarbone, which was where the incision had been to insert the Defibrillator. John just wanted to hold the tiny boy and cry, this was his fault, sure, he knew he had not made Sam sick, but he certainly hadn't help matters. Between hunting and his grief he couldn't be bothered to take his kids to the doctor, when Sam and Dean had started school, he had forged both of their shot records without a second thought.

He could hear Dean whispering to Sam. "You'll be okay now Sammy, the doctors figured out what's wrong and now they're gonna fix you. You can come back home soon and I'll be kicking your butt at soccer again before you know it."

John wished he could promise Sam that he would be fine, but even if Sam did make it through the surgery okay, how much longer could he live if John couldn't even remember basic things like doctors appointments.

A nice young nurse came to stand in front of John. "Mr. Winchester it's time."

* * *

John was almost positive that he was going to go crazy, it had been hours already and Jim had been in the chapel the entire time. That would not be a problem if John hadn't needed him for back up when he was trying to talk Dean into going back to their apartment with Caleb. When John had suggested it Dean took off running, John hadn't seen him since and that had been hours ago; John wasn't worried though, he knew Dean wouldn't go far.

He was right; Dean hadn't gone far at all. He had gone to the playroom, it was late and there were no children around, he didn't know what had drawn him there, but when he ran away from his father and Caleb that's where his legs took him. There he was standing right at the edge of Santa's makeshift wonderland.

"Dean?" Santa called. Dean didn't move or look up; he stayed where he was and continued to look at his feet, with his hands behind his back. "Dean? Are you ready to talk?"

Dean still did not look up, but he nodded, and he slowly looked up at Santa. Uncomfortable, was the only way to describe the look on his face it was very rare that Dean felt so shy, timid and awkward.

"Come. Sit down." Santa said.

"I am not sitting in your lap!" Dean protested.

Santa chucked. "Then pull up a chair." Dean did as he was bid and sat quietly in front of Santa. "What did you want to talk about?" Santa asked gently, Dean shrugged. "Do you want to tell me about Sammy?"

"He only lets me and Dad call him that." Dean said softly.

"Call him what?"

"Sammy. And he hates it when people call him little, my Dad's friend says he's a runt and it makes him really mad."

"Well, I'll be sure not to call him anything, but Sam."

Dean nodded. "He's real smart, ya know, for a little kid, he knows lots of stuff and he got to start kindergarten early." Santa listened intently as Dean went on and on about his brother. "...and he laughs at everything, Dad gets mad at him sometimes, cuz he laughs when he's not supposed to. He's a real klutz too he always trips over himself; my dad says he's never seen a kid who scrapes their knees and bumps their head more than Sammy. A few months ago he tripped and fell off the jungle gym at school and he broke his wrist, he was real brave though, I've never broken a bone before."

Dean paused for a while and Santa waited patiently for him to continue. "He doesn't believe in you, I used before my mom died, but he never has... when he's better can I bring him to meet you?"

"Of course you can."

Dean smiled. "I know you'll love him, everyone does, he's really cute."

"I bet he is, I'm looking forward to meeting him."

"I better go, my dad's probably wondering where I am. Thanks for...you know." Dean said with that he waved and started back the way he came.

* * *

When Dean got back to the waiting area John was sitting in the same chair that he had been when Dean had left, but now Sam's doctor was standing in front of him, his head was in his hands and he appeared to be crying.

'Dad wouldn't be crying unless...'

* * *

**AN: I'm really sorry everyone, whenever I go to update one of my other stories this one updates it's self too, even if there is no new chapter... the same thing happened to** **me last week, but a new chapter for this story should be here next week:)**

**Sorry**

Thank you for reading! And if you want to review, go for it, it's always nice to hear what you have to say.


	4. Chapter 4

When Sammy Met Santa

Chapter 4

Summary: Tragedy strikes the Winchester family during the holidays. Will a little bit of faith, belief and Christmas spirit be enough to turn things around? Sick Sam.

**AN: I'm very sorry, this story keeps updating it's self, it's really weird!—Maybe it's possessed **(HA)**...it would be fitting. **

I posted chapter 3 on Monday night then when I update date my other story, Thin Line one Tuesday it uploaded chapter 3 _again_ on it's own! (I think the same thing happened to chap 2 , I'm not positive.)

So anyway sorry for my tirade and I apologize for that double update and hopefully it doesn't happen again.

Thank you for reading and reviewing!

Hope you enjoy it...

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John couldn't believe that he was crying like a little girl in front of the doctor, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He couldn't remember the last time he let himself cry, but his sons were so much more important than his stupid pride. The doctor's words were replaying themselves over and over in his head...

"It was very touch and go during the surgery, we lost him twice, but he came through and he is in recovery right now. We were able to fix everything and we decided to put the Defibrillator back in, it's a waiting game now to see if we got to him soon enough, but your son is a fighter and I believe that he'll be just fine."

It took John a moment to realize that the doctor wasn't done talking to him. "Mr. Winchester?"

"Sorry what were you saying?" John asked.

"A nurse will come get you when Sam is settled back in the PICU." Dr. Martin said.

"Thank you." John said.

He wiped his face on his sleeve, out of the corner of his eye he spotted Dean standing at the entrance to the waiting area. He looked horrified, he starred at John with big frightened eyes and tears streaming down his face. What was he supposed to think? The last time that he's seen John cry was when Mary had died.

John motioned Dean over and Dean reluctantly came, he didn't want to hear what John had to say. He was dragging his feet and looking at the floor trying to prolong the inevitable. He stopped right in front of John, trying to wipe his tears away and stop crying; however when he did look up he saw something that he wasn't expecting, a smile on his father's face.

"Dad? Sammy...?"

John surprised Dean even more by throwing his arms around Dean and lifting him off the ground in a hug. After a few minutes he let Dean go and stood him on a chair so that they could see eye to eye, he wiped Dean's tears away with his thumbs.

"Sammy came through the surgery, the doctor thinks he's going to be fine."

That simple statement brought more tears, this they were happy tears though. "Really?" Dean asked with a big grin.

"Yup, and we'll be able to see him in a little while."

* * *

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­ 

It was quite awhile before a nurse came back out, Dean had fallen asleep on John's shoulder and John had his arm wrapped around Dean's shoulders, he had also dozed off at some point.

"Mr. Winchester?" The cranky young nurse called.

John's eyes immediately blinked open. "How is Sammy?" He asked Dean woke at the sound of his father's voice and he pulled himself upright.

"He's out of recovery and you may see him, but first I need to tell you what to expect." She said john nodded. "He will still be on the ventilator and the heart monitor and he'll have IV catheters to give him medicine, an NG tube, which will help drain any acid that may have built up in his stomach, he'll have an IV in his wrist and a chest tube. He is still sedated and we will gradually let him wake in the next 48 hours. Any questions?"

"No." John replied.

"Was Sam in the PICU before the surgery?" The nurse asked.

"Yeah." John replied, he really wished that she'd shut up and take them to Sam, Dean was starting to fidget.

"So you already have the code for the door?" She asked, John nodded impatiently. "And you know the rules?—wash your hands before going in the room, two people at a time, no visits between 5:00 and 7:00 AM or PM, and no one under twelve..." She said, eyeing Dean.

"We know." John snapped, then add confidently. "Lucky he just turned twelve yesterday, huh?" Thankfully, John was a fantastic liar and Dean could pass for a twelve year old.

"Lucky." The nurse hissed.

"Can I please see my son now?"

"Follow me." The nurse lead John and Dean into Sam's rooms. "Just call if you need anything or if you have any questions."

John and Dean immediately crowded the bed, Sam was pale and he looked especially tiny in comparison to the large bed with the monitors and machines surrounding it. There were tubes and wires everywhere, but both John and Dean could see that he already looked marginally better then he had when they had last seen him.

John kissed Sam's forehead and stroked his hair and then he stood there for the longest time just staring at him and smiling. Dean was so excited to see his brother again that he was hopping from one foot to the other and he took hold of Sam's little hand.

"Careful Son, don't move that tube." John reminded softly referring to the tube going in to Sam's wrist, they couldn't really see where it went in to his wrist because Sam's arm was covered in bulky gauze that was held on by medical tape.

"I won't." Dean said making sure that he was being gentle, then he started talking to Sam. "Hey Sammy, I missed ya, I got lots of stories to tell you when ya wake up, you're gonna laugh when I tell you and there's someone I want you to meet—so hurry up okay? You don't wanna sleep through Christmas do ya?"

John pulled up a chair for himself and Dean and prepared himself for a long stay, Dean continued to babble on and on for quite some time before he finally drifted off. John took this opportunity to pull Dean in to his lap and hold Sam's hand, he stroked the small hand with his thumb for a while before bring it to his lips and kissing it.

It was so good to have both his boys with him, he just knew in his heart that Sam was going to be back to his normal, sweet, energetic self in no time. As he sat there holding on to both of his boys he let himself cry again.

* * *

The next day the doctors worked on weaning Sam off the ventilator and the day after that Sam was free from the ventilator all together although he was still on oxygen. John and Pastor Jim were in the room at the time, because John had sent Dean to their apartment with Caleb.

Jim was asleep in a chair in the corner and John sat at Sam's beside sipping coffee and flipping through a car magazine. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sam shift slightly, he tossed the magazine aside and set his coffee on the floor he grabbed Sam's little hand in one hand and stroked his hair with the other.

"Sammy, wake up Baby, come on you can do it." He said gently. Sam's eyes slowly fluttered, but took awhile to focus on John's face. "That's my boy."

"Daddy...?" Sam mouthed no sound came out of his mouth except for a painful squeak.

"Shhh, no talking Baby, let me get you some water." John grabbed a water bottle, which Jim had bought earlier and a straw and held the straw to Sam's mouth. "Better?"

Sam didn't acknowledge John's question, but he looked up at his father with big scared eyes and in a weak, scratchy and barely audible voice asked. "Did I miss Christmas?"

John could only laugh. "No Baby, you didn't miss Christmas."

* * *

I'm milking another chapter out of this beast so hold your horses.

Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

When Sammy Met Santa

Chapter 5

Summary: Tragedy strikes the Winchester family during the holidays. Will a little bit of faith, belief and Christmas spirit be enough to turn things around? Sick Sam!

Note: Thank you for reading and reviewing! As requested I tried to make this chapter longer. Sorry for the wait.

Thanks for staying in the Christmas spirit with me (even though it's March), I'm always in the Christmas spirit, I'm still listening to Christmas music and if I was allowed, I'd probably keep my tree up all year.

Hope you enjoy it...

* * *

Caleb followed Dean into Sam's room in the PICU Dean was practically running. "Hurry up Caleb! He might wake up without me."

Caleb just shook his head and followed obediently, Sam wasn't supposed to wake up for awhile yet, which was the only reason Dean had agreed to leave.

Dean barged into the room. "Is he okay Dad? He didn't wake up did he?"

"Did you wash your hand Son?" John asked.

"Yeah."

"Come here then." John instructed softly, Dean did as he was told. He walked over to the bed, John was perched in the edge and looked carefully at Sam—his eyes were open!

"Dean." Sam said his voice was squeakier then usually.

"He's awake!" Dean squealed, and then glared at John. "You promised I could be here when he woke up."

"He woke up a bit sooner then we expected." John said.

Dean still looked upset, but turned to Sam who was about to doze off. "Are you okay Sammy?" Dean asked gently after Sam nodded, Dean added in a more heated tone. "Why'd ya wake up without me?!"

Sam glared grumpily back at his older brother. "You're the one who told me I was gonna miss Christmas, Jerk."

Dean smiled widely, yup, Sam would fine. "Bitch." He whispered soft enough that John wouldn't hear him cuss, and then he watched his brother drift off into a peaceful sleep.

* * *

"You've been holding him forever Dad, it's my turn now!" Dean said tapping his foot impatiently on the floor and glaring at John.

"Yeah right." Caleb scoffed; John had barely set Sam down since the doctor had allowed them to hold the boy.

Sam had finally been moved out of the PICU and he wasn't attached to as many machines now. He was still having trouble talking, but the doctor insisted that he just needed time to rest his voice.

John was sitting in chair beside the bed with Sam on his lap; Sam's head was resting against his chest as John read aloud to him. John didn't want to let him go, but Dean was persistent.

"Dad!"

"Fine, get on the bed." John instructed. Once Dean was settled John carefully placed Sam next to him, Sam was still in pain and it hurt him to be picked up and to be moved around too much, but Sam immediately barrowed into Dean. Dean wrapped his arms around his little brother and planted a kiss on the top of his head.

"I wanna hear the story Dean." Sam mumbled.

"What story?" Dean asked.

"The one you promised to tell me once I woke up." Sam's little voice was getting scratchy again. "'Member? You said I'd laugh...please, I wanna hear it?"

Dean remembered now, he had told Sam that when he was still unconscious and he was amazed that Sam had heard him. "You heard that?" Sam nodded. "Well...I was just gonna tell you about Sant—a friend I met while you were really sick."

"What's so funny about your friend?"

"You'd have to see him to understand." Dean sensed Sam's unquenchable curiosity building and he knew what was coming...the infinite questions that Sam was famous for. This time he didn't mind it though, he was just happy that Sam was well enough to be interested in something.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" Sam inquired.

"Boy."

"Good cuz I don't like girls. Is he nice?"

"Yeah, why would I be friends with him if he wasn't nice?"

"I dunno." Sam shrugged. "Do you think he'll like me?"

"I know he will."

"How do you know?"

"I just know."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Sammy I am 100 positive that he'll like you."

"Okay. How old is he?"

"A hundred at least." Dean replied matter-of-factly.

"A hundred!"

"Uh-huh."

"Wow, I've never meet anyone that old before, can I meet him? Please Dean? I'll be nice and I promise not to embarrass you."

"You don't embarrass me Sam."

"That's not what you said when you told me you liked that girl in your class and I asked her if she was your girlfriend."

"Well that was different and I wasn't embarrassed _of_ you, I was embarrassed because of what you said, big difference."

"Oh... so can I meet your friend then?"

"If he's still here when you're allowed to get up."

"When's he leaving?" Sam asked disappointedly.

"Christmas Eve probably..."

* * *

A few days later Dean led Sam into the playroom, he knew exactly when to come to catch Santa alone.

"I finally get to meet your friend Dean?" Sam asked excitedly tugging on Dean's hand.

"Yup." Dean took Sam right to Santa's wonderland, where Santa sat in his candy cane inspired thorn, having a conversation with a disgruntled elf. However, when he spotted Dean coming towards him, he quickly ended the conversation and turned his attention to the boys.

"Hello Dean." Santa greeted. "And who is this?"

"This is my baby brother Sammy, he's a lot better now; the doctor said he'll be home in time for Christmas."

"Well I'm glad to hear it."

Dean knelt down to Sam's level. "Sammy this is Santa, this is my friend who I was telling you about." Sam looked frightened. "It's okay Sammy; he's really nice...here." Dean carefully lifted Sam onto Santa's lap. "Talk to him, I'll wait right over there." Dean pointed to a couch that wasn't very far away.

Sam watched Dean walk away for a while then turned to look up at Santa who was staring down at him. Sam held out his right hand, like he had seen his father do when he met someone new. "H-hi I'm S-Sam, it's nice to meet you." He introduced himself nervously.

Santa looked thoroughly amused as he shook Sam's tiny hand. "It's very nice to meet you to Sam. Dean has told me a lot about you."

After the introduction, Sam started to fidget sheepishly with one of the large black buttons on Santa's coat. "My Dad and Dean told me that you're not real and parents just tell their kids about you so they don't do stupid stuff."

"Is that what they told you?"

Sam nodded. "Is that real?" Sam asked pointing to Santa's thick, white bread.

"Why don't you see for yourself, give it a tug." Santa suggested Sam tugged lightly.

"Wow, it is real, how'd you get it so long?"

"I've been growing it for a very long time."

"Like a hundred years? That's how old Dean said you were, I didn't believe him at first, but it must take a hundred years to grow a bread that long!" Sam quickly glanced over at Dean who was sitting on the couch where he said he would be, flipping through a picture book that someone had left behind. Sam's voice softened. "Dean told me a long time ago that you're a pervert in a fugly red suit."

"You boys certainly do have a colorful vocabulary."

"Thank you," Sam replied clearly misunderstanding exactly what Santa meant. "We learn lots o' words from Dad and his friends, 'specially Caleb, but not Pastor Jim, cuz he really likes Jesus and he says Jesus doesn't like the words Caleb uses. Caleb doesn't care though and he says them anyway, only he doesn't do it around Pastor Jim anymore cuz one time Pastor Jim washed his mouth out with soap, but sometimes Pastor Jim teaches us Latin. Dean got his mouth washed out with soap once too, cuz he called me the 'B' word, he told me it tasted good so I tried it and it was really gross." Sam said paused briefly to regain his train of thought and to catch his breath. "Anyway, I was gonna say that I think Dean is wrong..."

"Really?"

"Yup, I kinda like your suit." At that Santa let out a ground shaking "Ho, ho, ho!" Which startled Sam, he patted Santa's arm in concern. "Are you okay?"

"I'm wonderful, that's just how I laugh."

"Oh." Sam said in relief. "Ya know what else Dean says? He says you must drink a lot cuz your nose is so red, but your nose doesn't look very red right now, so you must not be drunk."

"I'm not, I only drink milk."

"Really? Then why does your nose get so red?"

"Because I live in the North Pole, its pretty cold up there and the cold makes your face red." Santa replied Sam looked thoughtful for a few minutes then nodded his acceptance. "What do you want for Christmas, Sam?"

"My Dad doesn't like Christmas."

"Why is that?"

Sam shrugged. "Dean says they just stopped having it after our mom died."

"Well, I think he likes it a whole lot better know."

Sam looked at Santa skeptically for a minute then shook his head. "I don't think you know my Dad very well."

"Well, if you could have something for Christmas, what would it be?"

Sam was deep in thought then he answered with conviction. "I want my daddy and Dean to be happy."

"I think they're already very happy."

"How come?"

"Because you were very sick and now you're getting better."

Sam let that thought sink in then shook his head again. "They're sad, I know cuz they were crying a lot and my dad never cries and when I asked him what was wrong he wouldn't tell me."

"Those were tears of joy Sam, Dean and your dad are happy that you're going to be okay."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive."

"Then I don't need anything for Christmas."

* * *

The boys were back in Sam's room and Sam was nearly asleep, his head on Dean's shoulder.

"Dean?"

"Huh?"

"I thought you and Dad said Santa wasn't real...but he was right there in the play room, I talked to him."

"I know you did Sam, I introduced you to him."

"Yeah, but you said he was just made up—you said! And ya know what else? Santa says he only drinks milk, so his not drunk all the time like you told me."

"Well, it doesn't happen very often Sammy, but maybe I was..." Dean cleared his thoart. "...wrong."

"You _and_ Dad?" Sam pulled himself up on his elbow and looked up at Dean.

"Yup."

Sam shook his head firmly, his eye were wide and innocent. "Nuh-uh."

* * *

Sam had been released from the hospital, finally, and the Winchesters decided to spend Christmas with Jim and Caleb. Dean was more excited then Sam, because Sam had never experienced Christmas before.

Dean had been tested to make sure that he was not suffering from any kind of heart abnormality, as Sam had been. The day that Sam was discharged, the results for the tests that Dean had undergone had come back and the doctor was able to declare him perfectly healthy and free of any heart problems.

John had already made appointments for both boys to get check-ups with a doctor friend of Jim's—he'd learned his lesson and made a vow to Mary not to make the same mistake again.

The Christmas Eve dinner was a feast, they had turkey, ham, and every favor of pie that had ever been invented. Afterwards they went into the living room, where the large 9 foot tree stood and the stockings hung, Caleb, John and the boys piled on to the couch.

Sam was still recovering from his ordeal and was already starting to fall asleep in John's arms as Jim started to read aloud: "'Twas the Night before Christmas and all through the house..." Sam drifted in and out of sleep through out the story, but clearly heard the ending. "Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!"

* * *

The next morning Dean had everyone racing around the house before Sam woke up, making sure that everything was perfect for Sam's very first Christmas.

John had even gotten in the Christmas spirit; he was making sure, the ornaments on the tree were distributed equally and that there were no bare spots. As he worked, he even hummed a Christmas carol or two.

At 9:00AM, Dean and John went into the room that the boys were sharing to wake Sam up, much to their surprise, he was already awake. John set about changing the bandages that covered Sam's surgical incisions.

"You're gonna have a really big scar." Dean announced.

"So what?" Sam asked.

"Well, Caleb says that girls love scars."

"Ew, why?"

Dean shrugged. "I dunno. Hurry up Dad; I wanna see what Santa left us!"

When John finished replacing the bandages, he set Sam on the floor. "All done."

Dean grabbed Sam's hand and started to lead him to the living room. "Don't we have to get dressed Dean?"

"Not today."

"How come? People only wear pajamas on Christmas?"

"At least tell noon."

"Oh." Sam said he paused for a moment. "Dean, I don't think Santa left me anything."

"What? Of course he did. Didn't you tell him what you wanted?"

"I told him I didn't need anything."

Dean stopped at the entrance to the living room and pointed at the tree with tons of presents underneath. "Well, I think he brought you something anyway..."

Sam's eye were as wide as saucers, he had never seen anything like this, except on TV, there were so many presents that there was barely enough room to walk.

As Sam and Dean went through their stockings, Sam looked around at John, Jim, and Caleb, who were watching the boys.

"How come only me and Dean have stockings?" Sam asked.

"Santa only leaves stockings for kids." Jim replied.

"Shouldn't Caleb have one?"

"I am not a kid!" Caleb protested. "I'm almost twenty-one years old."

"It's age 'scrimination." Sam announced matter-of-factly.

"What?" Caleb asked.

Sam shrugged. "That's what Dean says when we go out to eat and a waitress gives him a kids menu—Age 'scrimination."

Caleb looked to Dean. "What the hell is he talking about?"

"Watch your language, if it wasn't Christmas I'd wash your mouth out with soup." Jim said.

"He means 'age discrimination'." John laughed.

Dean always says that when a waiter gives him crayons and a kids menu, he hates it when they do that. He is nine not a baby like Sammy!

"Uh-huh." Sam nodded. "That's what I said."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Caleb asked.

"Santa didn't leave you a stocking, cuz you're old." Sam said, he picked his stocking up and drug it over to the adults. He pulls out a handful of candy and put it on John's lap, then pulled out a large orange and some chocolate coins and put them on Jim's lap.

When he got to Caleb, he really starts digging; everyone was watching him in amusement as he turns his stocking upside-down and all of its continents go on the floor. Sam started sorting through the pile of stuff trying to find the perfect thing for Caleb.

"I don't want anything, Sam, really." Caleb said.

Sam ignored him and continued to dig. Finally, he gathered a few things and stuck them back into the stocking. He turned back to Caleb and handed him the stocking.

He waited excitedly for Caleb to start pulling things from the stocking. First, Caleb pulled out a box of markers, then a package of liquorish, his favorite candy, and after handfuls of chocolate Santas, at the bottom of the bag was a small toy truck.

"It kinda looks like yours, huh?" Sam said.

"Yeah it does." Caleb agreed with a grin.

"That was very nice of you Sam." Jim said.

"It's not Caleb's fault he's old and Santa won't give him stuff anymore." Sam said with a modest shrug.

"Thank you Sam." Caleb said ruffling Sam's shaggy hair, Sam swatted his hands away.

"You're welcome, merry Christmas!"

The boys opened presents for the longest time then everyone sat down for a late breakfast and the remainder of the day was spent playing with new toys.

By dinnertime, Sam was practically falling asleep in his plate; John carried him up to bed at 6:30 PM, when Sam almost did a nosedive into his pie. Dean followed shortly after, also exhausted from the excitement of the day.

After changing into his new pair of pajamas he kissed a sleeping Sam's forehead. He debated getting in to bed with Sam and sleeping with him that night, but instead he pulled back the covers to his own bed.

Resting on his pillow was a picture with a little plastic frame that read 'My first Christmas', the picture was a picture of Sammy sitting in Santa's lap. Dean flipped it over and on the back written in red ink, it said:

Merry Christmas Dean,

Santa

The End.

* * *

Thank you!

I never thought it would happen, but I finally finished a story. Thanks for hanging in there with me...you have been awesome!

And a special thank you to you reviewers.


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